The other day I was driving down the highway and in my rear view mirror I see a car quickly approaching behind me. I look to see if I can safely get over, I cannot. With quite a bit of traffic, there was no where for me and my big truck to go. Mr. Speedy behind me will just have to slow down and be patient.
He doesn't. He whips his tiny car in and out of traffic so quickly that I am sure he is going to hit someone. He doesn't. Once he gets through the traffic jam, he races off going far above the speed limit. I roll my eyes. And to be honest, I called him a name. I yelled to the car who will never hear me, "You stupid driver!"
That is when I feel it. A God spanking. God gently nudged me, telling me, "You don't know his story. You don't know why he was driving so quickly. Instead of judging him, pray for him."
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Then I feel a flashback to the day I received the call saying just two words, "It's Papa." Not knowing if my grandfather was still with us or not, or what had happened, we sped down the road, whipping in and out of any cars that might be in our way.
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